


How You Make Boys Feel

by BelleRaev



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Desperation Kink, F/M, Lydia is a tease, Poor Scott has to deal with the freak out, Stiles is confused and tortured, Teasing kink, kink-meme fill
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2012-11-17
Updated: 2012-11-17
Packaged: 2017-11-18 21:48:52
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,251
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/565649
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BelleRaev/pseuds/BelleRaev
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Kink-Meme Fill in which Lydia slowly seduces Stiles and leaves him desperate and frantic.</p>
            </blockquote>





	How You Make Boys Feel

**Author's Note:**

> Title from 'No You Girls Never Know' by Franz Ferdinand

The first time that it happened it was fairly innocent and possibly accidental, he was still debating. 

He was in the cafeteria, sitting with Scott and listening to his newest plans to have Allison return to him since being without her was making him miserable and he couldn't breathe and a bunch of other insanely cliché things that's he's been hearing since Allison entered Beacon Hills high school. 

His eyes had drifted to the 'popular' table, since Scott really didn't need his full attention for this, when he caught sight of Lydia. 

She was standing facing the other members of her table and was rocking back and forth on her tall pointy heels. He couldn't help that it caught his attention more than normal because literally all he could see was legs. 

She had on a ridiculously short skirt that was probably way below dress code and each of her rocking movements caused the pleated skirt to move around her revealing even more tantalizing skin. It was cruel and unusual punishment having to watch because _God_ , he wanted so much just to touch her. 

Her legs were so creamy white, they looked as soft and smooth as velvet and he had this faint idea that she would taste like vanilla. He wasn't a big fan of vanilla usually but Lydia Martin's legs gave him the most absurd craving and he just wanted to gorge himself on it. 

It wasn't surprising when he felt his breathing turn into deeper, slower sighs as his mind started to wander off into the million and one things he would like to do to Lydia Martin. 

They weren't all sexual because he did like her for more than just her looks; the girl had an amazing brain. But right now it wasn't the feel of her brain that he was imagining under his hand and sliding against his mouth. 

_Jesus Christ,_ he was about to have an anxiety attack to match his very embarrassing boner if he didn't look away. 

But he couldn't, his eyes were glued and when she leaned over the table to grab something off of Danny's plate, Stiles had to bite on his tongue to keep from groaning out loud because _oh my god_ , that was unfair and he could definitely, if he tilted his head a little, make out the curve of her ass peeking through. 

Was she not wearing underwear? Is this a thing that Lydia Martin did because he needed to know for purposes. 

"Dude..." he was knocked out of his daydream by a chicken nugget hitting him on the nose and startled as he turned his attention back to his now silent friend.

"What?" He asked, eyebrows raised and voice a little hoarse probably from holding his breath waiting for Lydia to flash her ass his way. 

"You know that I can smell you right?" Scott asked looking a little bit mortified and nervous and Stiles just answered with a snort. 

"I'm a teenager, now’s the time for insatiable libidos and public erections" he answered nonchalant and smiled inwardly at Scott's scandalized face. 

"Scott, it's a perfectly normal bodily function don’t get so worked up over it." he pressed on and laughed when Scott let out his 'Oh my God' and promptly got out of his seat and walked away. 

Stiles wanted to follow and torture him some more but he was nervous that the bulge of his pants might be a little too obvious. He decided instead to wait it out.

So his attention of course turned to Lydia's table again and he froze as he noticed that she was looking right at him. 

His heart skipped a beat at being caught and wondered if she was going to call him out on his very conspicuous leering but instead she smiled. 

No, not smiled, smirked! Her perfect red glossed lips quirked up at the sides and she lifted her eyebrows in challenge before _fucking twirling_ and starting her walk away from the lunch room. 

Stiles was beyond shock and couldn't comprehend what happened. Was she giving permission to check her out? Because he could definitely do that and do it well. 

A part or his brain told him Lydia acknowledging his perving was a little irrational and he found himself agreeing. He didn't live in a porno, chances of the girl he wanted having a sudden change of heart was slim and Stiles decided it was better to not ponder on it. 

Obviously that was an empty promise since the second he left the lunch room he was going to head to the bathroom to ponder privately.

****

The next time it happened, Stiles was _sure_ that it wasn’t an accident but it did make him wonder if he had been dropped in some alternate reality where fantasies came to life, or that Lydia had been replaced by a creature who totally wanted to fuck with him. Given what he now knew about the supernatural, either one was plausible. 

He honestly didn’t think much of it at first. When she asked Scott to switch seats with her and seat next to Allison, he just figured maybe it was Allison’s request. She was the one who convinced Lydia to go to the dance with him after all… though that hadn’t ended too well. 

So he had simply moved over, edging to the farthest side of the chemistry table to allow Lydia her space. Then the problem became staring straight ahead at the green chalkboard or focusing all of his attention at the back of Greenberg’s head because he didn’t want to risk glancing at her and then being unable to stop staring. 

He has been desperately trying to be more subtle with his leering and staring into her insanely low v-cut dress would counteract all of his efforts. 

He didn’t start to suspect anything until a sudden weight fell on his knee and a glance down showed him that it was Lydia’s perfectly manicured hand. All creamy pale skin and thin long fingers. 

And it was resting on his thigh, at the edge of his knee like it was completely ordinary. 

He couldn’t stop staring at it because reason was waiting for it to disappear as he obviously was just imagining the whole thing. 

A minute later and it was still there, resting innocently against his thigh, except for the fact that the heat that was coming from the hand and seeping into his jeans was now spreading through his entire body and drying up all of the moisture in his lungs. 

His chest has never gotten so tight so quickly and if it wasn’t for the fact that he knew he didn’t have that particular problem, Stiles would think he was about to experience an asthma attack. 

He looked up, tearing his gaze away from the paralyzing weight on his thigh and turned to look at Lydia in order to inform her of her hand situation because it was possible that she didn’t realize where it had landed by accident. 

Her profile was mostly covered with her red wavy hair and Stiles really couldn’t make out her face in order to get a clue of _what the fuck was happening right now_. 

“Um… Lydia…” He spoke in a whisper and leaned towards her in order to keep as quiet as he possibly could. 

“What. Stiles.” Her words were clipped and biting when she whispered back and didn’t even bother to look up from her chemistry book. 

“…Your hand?” He dropped his voice lower because he was whispering the biggest secret ever told and this class happened to contain about every teenage werewolf in Beacon Hills. 

“My hand?” She answered and turned her head so that she was staring straight at him. 

“What about my hand?” Her face was neutral, eyes wide and eyebrows raised in the way that said that she obviously didn’t have time to waste on puny humans and that he would need to do a rain dance later to appease her, maybe even sacrifice a lamb. 

“It’s… on… my… leg?” His sentence came out slow and by the end of it turned into more of a question than a statement. He had gotten distracted, both by the look that she was giving him and by how he couldn’t believe how beautiful she was with her face so close to his. 

“And why would my hand be on your leg?” She answered as her eyes narrowed, sharpened and her expression changed to perfect her ‘I’m so much better than you’ expression.

It took Stiles by surprise, because the weight was still on his leg but now he felt like an idiot because, _Why would it be_. 

“It… wouldn’t?” He answered her slowly and completely confused. 

“Exactly.” Her head tilted forward and she gave a wide pretend smile, then rolled her eyes and returned her attention back to the textbook. 

Stiles stayed in the same spot for a moment because his brain hadn’t caught up with the situation yet and his mouth was open to speak but nothing was coming out. 

The weight was still on his thigh, and yes, a look down confirmed that was Lydia’s hand, but now he knew it couldn’t be because _come on_ , in what universe would that happen. Plus she said it wasn’t so…

He straightened up in his chair slowly, mind racing a mile a minute with a million thoughts that only reminded him of how weird this was. He was losing his mind, and yea… not Lydia’s fingers were starting to rub circles inside of his thigh. 

He pulled out his phone with an insane amount of difficulty with his now trembling hands in order to text Scott about his drifting out of reality. 

**_Am I in a coma and there’s a machine transmitting through my brain that’s letting me imagine things?_ **

He hit send and risked a look at Lydia’s profile who was completely engrossed in her chemistry book. He refused to look down at his thigh because he couldn’t breathe, her hand or not her hand was moving, and his body was quickly rising to an inferno level temperature. 

**_that’s the ending to repomen_ **

His phone buzzed with an answer from Scott and Stiles wasted no time in texting back. 

**_Lydia’s hand is on my leg_ **

he hit send then a second later wrote another. 

**_and its rubbing_**

Actually it was more than rubbing, the palm of her hand, _the_ hand, maybe imaginary, was sliding up against his thigh. It was doing so slowly, but the touch was firm, commanding attention and wanting to be acknowledged and Stiles was practically grinding his teeth in order to keep still. 

His heart was thundering in his chest hard enough to cause vibrations through him and his other leg began to bounce and tap in cadence. There was also the fact that his throat was slowly closing up the higher that the hand moved up his thigh. 

He could practically feel the blood in his body shunting downwards and it felt like most of it was being drained from his brain with how light-headed he felt. Where the hell was oxygen when you needed it. Blunt scratches stroked his inner thigh dangerously close to his groin and his leg jerked up in response. The sharp pain from his knee hitting the underside of the table was barely subsiding before it happened again and he made a low rumbling sound in his throat in response. 

It was both from the stinging pain and the sudden roughness of the denim rubbing the sensitive skin so close to his now straining erection. 

Her hand was so close, and he honestly didn’t know if he wanted it to get closer or just get away. Either way he probably wouldn’t survive it because he was running low on air and forgot how to inhale properly with the mantra of ‘oh my god oh my god oh my god’ that had taken over his thoughts. 

Her hand inched closer, ghosting over the bulge at his groin and his body went still. His foot stopped bouncing and his stomach clenched as his eyes shut tight in anticipation. He felt the light touch against the fabric, not quite touching but getting there and he stopped breathing, he was waiting and the seconds were ticking by, and her hand was hovering over him and she was going to touch him, any painful second now… and then the bell rand and the pressure against the fabric disappeared. 

There was movement around him and when he opened his eyes everyone was shuffling to grab their things. Including the person next to him. 

Stiles couldn’t look at her, he kept staring straight ahead and didn’t move. He honestly couldn’t move, somewhere during the whole ordeal his bones had turned to jelly and he couldn’t find the strength to move from this stool. 

His adrenaline had finally stopped pumping and now he was aware of how _painfully_ hard he was in his pants and how extremely uncomfortable he felt. 

The students piled out of the classroom, Lydia included and then there was a flurry of movement next to him and a hand patting him on his shoulder. 

“You are the worst best friend in the history of worst best friends” 

He didn’t even have the strength to turn and see Scott’s sympathetic expression and instead just opted to banging his head on the table to the fuckery of what his life has become.


End file.
